


Per Nox Noctis

by slbunnies



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Sex, BDSM, Crack and Angst, Drinking, Drug Use, Dubious Consent, Everyone Is Gay, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, First Time, Food smut, I think I forgot the kitchen sink, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Incest/Or rather Twincest, M/M, Multi, OOC, Oral Sex, Rimming, Smoking, Surprise! - Freeform, Swearing, Toys, Underage Drinking, Violence, and probably a lot of other things, except maybe Snape, like everyone, no seriously, okay he's a little gay too, surprise angst...
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-16
Updated: 2016-05-27
Packaged: 2018-06-08 19:38:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6870748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slbunnies/pseuds/slbunnies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(or also less superciliously titled - Through The Night)</p><p>After the Slytherin common room hosts a weekend long party (just because, also they're totally awesome), hangovers, desires, and sexual deeds occur. During, afterwards, and the consequences from it.</p><p>(Crack!fic, or close to it - it's just ridiculously stupid, I promise)<br/>(It's my fic to humour myself)<br/>(Also contains smut... so much smut)<br/>(I should probably mention the equal helpings of angst... that might be important)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Day After

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so this silly story is going to go back and forth between the two characters for a bit. And then just when you're starting to get into it, just to confuse you, I'll be randomly interspersing it with other characters as well. Hopefully it'll be in short, quick chapters, and I can make someone other than myself laugh while reading it.

He could feel the pulsing beat of a heart underneath his hand but unfortunately curiosity was already losing the battle against the option of having less pain. You see, curiosity at that moment meant pain. And he didn’t dare expose his eyes to the light because he knew that, with the hangover he was likely to have, his bothersome headache would become unpleasantly worse. 

So as much as he would have loved to have known the identity of whoever he was currently snuggled with, his interest in this did not surpass his own well-being. On this particular occasion at least. 

Rather than opening his eyes, he decided to identify the body by touch. Not in the perverted, molesting way of course. As his free hand ran the line from the person’s stomach to shoulder, Draco shockingly realized that they were of the male variety. His curiosity was piqued even more and he chanced opening his eyes, only a sliver, just for a glance. 

All he saw was skin. Tanned, soft, unmarked skin. Nice. At least this helpful skin blocked out the light. He knew he didn’t want to chance burning out the retinas in his eyes just to see which person he had decided to curl up with. Draco slowly unwound himself from around the unknown figure and felt his way up onto the couch that stood behind him. 

His eyes snapped open because of a sudden rustling movement on the other side of the couch and he scowled as the brilliant shine of light hit him wholly. People rousing all about him looked horribly hungover as far as he could discern, although some of them were just horrible looking if you wanted to state the facts. 

What could he say, he was a ravishingly blonde Slytherin – it was his job to make rude comments about those inferior to himself. Of course, that meant everyone, but it was a talent he felt should not be wasted. 

He didn’t see that as being negative in any way, he was only helping to point out things so that people would know how to positively change all of their disgusting flaws. He knew with some it might be impossible, Wizard Surgery was a miracle, yes, but it definitely couldn’t change some facial deformities on some of the people he saw on a daily basis.

People lay on the floor in heaps, frantic at the discovery of finding random limbs intertwined with other people’s limbs, waking up in horror at whom they found themselves with. Draco of course could only be a good sport about it and laugh. That is until the person he had found himself with stood up and stretched – pants-less and sporting an impressive morning, or was it rather afternoon, erection. 

What everyone would remember from that morning/afternoon was that Draco Malfoy sure could scream like a girl. 

Face attached to coffee cup, Draco scowled as he questioned his own persistence of a party. Oh, everything would have just been dandy, to go by his remembrance of the previous night, although that was still a little fuzzy. 

Yes, quite great - that was if he hadn’t woken up entangled with Harry Potter of all people . Really, no one could blame him for yelling, even if it was a little high pitched. 

-

Harry, though he had stood to stretch, had become fully awake from someone screaming, almost literally, in his ear. And if it wasn’t for the fact that his head felt like it was about to explode he would have been laughing at the horrified look on his nemesis’ face, though he wasn’t entirely sure of the reason for the blonde’s disgust. 

Groaning as he sat down for some breakfast, he felt someone sit next to him and turned to see flaming red. 

“Ron, can you turn your hair off for a minute? It’s giving me a headache.”

“Sorry mate, no can do. How much did you drink last night anyway?” Ron really didn’t seem affected by the alcohol at all. Harry groaned again. Lucky bastard. Hermione practically came out of nowhere and took a seat beside Ron. 

“Harry, where’s your shirt?” She paused, confused momentarily. “And your pants?”

Ron looked blankly at Harry. “Bloody hell, mate.”

“And why don’t you just do a hangover spell?” She asked smartly. He shrugged. “Fine let me do it,” she said, placing the spell over him. He still felt like crap.

They all sat silently, giving each other questioning glances because none of them could remember a single thing that happened the previous night. For some strange reason, even though the other two hadn’t gotten as plastered as Harry had obviously been, they still had no memories. None what so ever. 

Nor did anyone care about Harry’s obvious lack of apparel. What they didn’t know was that their lack of memories had been planned from the get go, along with every one else's, and only the Slytherin’s knew the reason for this, oh, and that Harry's clothes were, infact, invisible.

-

Draco sat by himself praising his and his fellow Slytherin’s cleverness. They had perceived that with how blatantly wasted everyone would get, that secrets… forbidden secrets no one outside of their house should know, might slip, and the forgetfulness potion had been a brilliant way of eluding this point. None of the other houses had any memory of the party at all. 

Unfortunately, neither did Draco at that moment, but he was sure he would remember once the alcohol made its way out of his brain… that alcohol sloshing back and forth any time he moved his head, causing a seriously painful pounding. He needed to lay down.

He really didn’t know what to do with himself. He didn’t want to feel so sluggish and lazy. He was a Malfoy and he had conditioned himself in many different ways. 

He had the strength and the will to deal with his massive hangover, he would get through it, he would prevail; Draco whimpered quietly... he had the guts to go and wake Snape up for a hangover potion. 

The journey there was the only problem he had to face. He knew his Godfather would surrender a potion to him because he was also aware of the sort of night he had had as well. It had been very similar to his own. 

Wishing he could find a cigarette before heading off, but not willing to attract too much attention, he snuck away from everyone else’s morning grumpiness on a mission to procure a relief for his hangover from Severus’ stash.


	2. Chapter 2

Back in the Gryffindor tower, wrapped tightly and snuggled into his own bed, Harry winced as the pounding in his head continued. Ignoring Hermione’s persistence that he eat, he decided that a little silence might help and had, despite being unable to find his clothing and under the stealth provided by his invisibility cloak, crept back to the boy’s dormitory where he curled up with hopes of being alone. 

Ron, of course, could not pass up the offer of food and made his way happily to the Great Hall to fill his stomach. 

Harry slept for around six hours, missing most of the day, and just awoke as the sun was setting, which seemed a ridiculous time to wake up at, but he did feel much better after sleeping on a bed instead of the floor as he had the previous night. Or morning. He wasn't really sure when he'd actually fallen asleep last.

He reached over for his wand on the bedside table where he had deposited it earlier, and let out a groan as he stretched. His muscles were still stiff and sore. Harry had the brilliant idea to take a shower. Then he could get clean and maybe it would be relaxing as well. 

Whistling as he strode into the Gryffindor boy's bathroom, Harry removed the clothes he wore, which consisted of his underwear and socks, and picked a shower stall. The water sluiced deliciously through the sweat and grime on his body and he moaned at the pressure of the spray. It was heavenly.

And then his thoughts went to other things he found heavenly. Like Malfoy's perfect, smooth, delectable... wait, that wasn't what he was supposed to be thinking. You weren't supposed to think of your male enemy as sexy – no matter how outrageously homosexual they might be.

All of that leather furniture the Slytherin's seemed so fond of just screamed 'I'm a sexy, kinky, bitch! Take me now!' and Harry pondered for a moment how Malfoy might look in leather pants.

Realizing his thoughts, he smacked his head against the cool, marble tiles of the shower.

“Ow.”

Beating himself didn't seem very productive and left terribly unattractive bruising. Harry looked around the empty shower room and had another brilliant idea. He would simply wank his woes away.

He reached down and took himself in hand, groaning as he actually hardened further, and began to stroke quickly, his toes curling underneath the spray of the water. It wouldn't be forever that he had the shower alone. Although, there came to mind a certain blonde he wouldn't mind joining him – he moaned indecently, smacking his head against the tile again, just leaving his forehead pressed there as he came, shooting across the wall. 

Well, that had been more eye opening then he'd imagined a wank session should be. Harry scrubbed himself, and the wall, clean and turned off the water before wrapping his waist in a large, dry, fluffy towel. 

So, Malfoy, then. It could be worse, Harry's brain supplied, he could be attracted to Snape.

-

Draco strolled back to the Slytherin Common Room from his journey to procure a remedy for his hangover. Snape had arched a single eyebrow at him and had patiently waited for him to finish whining and pleading for mercy, before sweeping off to his personal storage of potions, muttering quietly to himself about giving Draco something if it would shut him up. Draco had smirked and also had figuratively patted himself on the back for a job well done.

And now he wished he'd stayed in his Professor/Head Of House/Godfather's company. He crept through the room, aiming to avoid almost everyone he saw, because seriously...? 

Pansy and Longbottom were making out on his favorite sofa, while Greg and Vincent were attempting to suck each other's tonsils out through their mouths while sprawled out on the lovely rug in front of the fireplace, and Patil, he couldn't tell which one, looked like she was getting to second base with Blaise and... was that boy Weasley? 

What the fuck, was it 'let's snog a Gryffindor day'? Apparently Draco had missed that memo. He walked over to the threesome and spitefully tried kicking them apart. Blaise shooed him away, some friend he was.

Draco tried his best to ignore everyone and he followed the smell of coffee, snatching a nearly full cup of it straight from someone's hands, and sitting down far away from the snogging couples to drink it. He buried his scowling face in the cup and drained it quickly. 

“Oh, Drakey poo!” Pansy shrilly called, prying herself from Longbottom's clutch for a second, probably wanting a threesome. Everyone in the vicinity, including Draco, winced at her overly, annoying voice. Draco hastily got up and scuffled to his bedroom, locking the door with a spell, and plopped down onto his enormous, silk covered, green bed, hoping Pansy forgot he existed. 

Maybe a nap was in order. Perhaps when he awoke everything would go back to normal. Or at least as normal as it got around the dungeon's.

**Author's Note:**

> This was seriously, without a doubt the stupidest fic I ever wrote. And yet I am re-writing the crap out of it. It will still be stupid... just, a little bit reined in and I'm changing a bunch of it. Also, it's been about 10 years since I wrote this so hopefully my writing has improved since then... and if not, oh well.


End file.
